


Lapse

by flamboyantgentleman



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Sadstuck, Songfic, lapse - marianas trench, post-scratch speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 06:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamboyantgentleman/pseuds/flamboyantgentleman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lapse (v): To come to an end, especially gradually or permanently. </p>
<p>In which Dave is left alone with nothing but John's memory after the game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lapse

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song lapse by marianas trench  
> seriously go look it up it will make you cry and have horrendously sad otp feels

You forget what it felt like to hold him.

And even when you wake, with fingertips clutching at blank white sheets instead of soft skin, the memory fades too fast into the unforgiving morning. You’re left with nothing and you can’t _breathe_ because each time is a crippling loss, a new pain opening wounds that you’re afraid won’t ever heal.

It won’t be long before you slip under again, back into a world that died long ago.

_It’s not as deep as it seems,_   
_And unfair as it may be_   
_I’m just here to remind you_   
_Remind you not to forget to remember me._

He’s always smiling in your dreams, smiling with those brilliant blue eyes and for just a second you let yourself think of all the times that color (glimpsing a bluejay as it flies past, and suddenly your mind is white with painful memory) has crippled you to stinging silence. But here is its source, here you can drown in the jewel tones and forget what it feels like to be awake.

Because this is your reality.

_Predisposed to perpetual sickness,_   
_I refuse to let you all be witness_   
_Make sure the needle is clean when you let me go back to sleep._

You learn to hate the brush of linen against your skin, because it means awake. It means _alive_ but _alive_ means nothing to you, and you’re too far gone to be scared that numbness will be the best you can ever hope for.

_I’m not afraid,_ you told him once, _at least not to die._  
 _I’m afraid to live and not remember why._

Eight years ago, you played a game.

Eight years ago, you lost a game. Every chess pawn toppled in cold silence and you were left alone, alone with nothing but the bitter taste of failure in your mouth and the sting of battlescars that sunk a little too deep into your chest.

You forget why they’re not enough to kill you, but you’re too dead to care.

And so is he.

_It’s not as deep as it seems,_   
_And unfair as it may be_   
_I’m just here to remind you_   
_Remind you not to forget to remember me._


End file.
